


The Porch

by Batfink



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Clint Feels, Clint has no Wife, Clint really likes purple, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Nightmares, Not A Fix-It, Past Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batfink/pseuds/Batfink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So what now?”  Sam asked.</p><p>Clint grinned and headed for the pilot's seat.  “Now we go home.”</p><p>“Home?”  Wanda enquired.  “Where is home?”</p><p>“You'll see.”  Clint replied as the engines roared to life and the jet lifted into the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Porch

It was with a heavy heart that Steve walked away from T'Challa's home towards the jet where the remaining members of his team were awaiting him. He boarded slowly and looked up towards them.

“So what now?” Sam asked.

Clint grinned and headed for the pilot's seat. “Now we go home.”

“Home?” Wanda enquired. “Where is home?”

“You'll see.” Clint replied as the engines roared to life and the jet lifted into the air.

 

Home was Clint's farmhouse. Steve remembered it from their last visit. Remembered fraught conversations with Tony that seemed like a lifetime ago.

 _“I don't trust a guy without a darkside.”_  
_“Well let's just say you haven't seen it yet.”_

“Tony knows about this place.” He stated as the jet settled to the ground and Clint began flicking the switches that would shut down the engines.

“I don't think we have to worry about Tony.” Clint shrugged climbing from the pilot's seat.

Steve wasn't sure Clint was right, but he would worry about that later, for now he just wanted five minutes peace.

Clint ushered the team off the jet and gave them the nickel tour of his homestead. The house was bigger than it looked. A loft conversion ensuring there was room for everyone.

The last time Steve had been there, there hadn't been much time for relaxing, but for now, all they had was time. They were fugitives, out there, in the world at large, but here, in the quiet middle of no-where, they were just friends. Friends on a holiday enjoying each others company.

They were miles from the nearest town, but still Clint was a well known face there. Not as an Avenger though. Not even as Clint Barton. He was simply Tom Anderson and no-one looked twice at him, other than to say hello in passing.

Steve's face was deemed a little too familiar to risk, so he never accompanied Clint into town for groceries. Scott was the only one that went with him. Easily passed off as his city slicker brother hiding out from a disgruntled ex-wife. It was a story with enough truth to it to be believable.

Clint at home was a lot different from the Clint Steve knew from the Avengers. He was laid back, happy. The underlying tension and anger that radiated from him when he was working was gone. He wasn't hyper alert or hyper focused although he still practised every day, shooting at targets set up in the field behind the house.

His wardrobe too came as something of a revelation to Steve who had never seen him in anything other than combat gear.

Clint was standing at the cooker when Steve entered the kitchen a few weeks after they had arrived and he stopped just inside the door to watch him. Summer had arrived, ramping up the temperatures and with it came a new look for Clint.

A tight purple tank top that clung to every curve of his back and sides in stark contrast to the baggy blue denim shorts that hung dangerously low on his slim hips and stopped just below his knee. The look finished off by a battered pair of baseball shoes. His shaggy blonde hair tousled and sun bleached from getting to spend a lot more time outdoors. His skin tanned and healthy looking. He reached up to a cupboard to the right of the cooker and as he stretched Steve caught a flash of the top of Clint's ass and felt his mouth go dry.

Clint lifted down a stack of plates and turned. If he was surprised to see Steve standing there staring at him, he didn't let on. He simply handed him the plates and pointed towards the table. “Breakfast is nearly ready. Set the table while I call the others.” He smiled and slipped past Steve out of the room leaving Steve blushing furiously but setting the table none the less.

 

“There's a lake.” Clint informed them over breakfast interrupting Sam complaining about the heat.

“There is?” Scott asked and Clint nodded.

“I have a boat.” Clint added.

“Well, what the hell are we sitting here sweating our asses off for then?” Sam demanded to know.

“You think that's a good idea?” Steve asked. “All of us together in a public place?”

Clint nodded. “It's on my land, no public allowed.”

Steve nodded. “Go get organised then.” He laughed as his team all bolted from the room like a bunch of excited kids.

Thanks to Clint's skills with online shopping, they all had swimwear. He hadn't mentioned to Steve that he had been buying stuff on a credit card Tony had given him. Steve though he was using money from a secret account he'd had from his SHIELD days.

If Steve had thought the vest and baggy shorts combo Clint had been sporting that morning was impressive, it was nothing compared to the sight of the bright purple shorts Clint had put on to go swimming. They were more like painted on hot pants and Steve almost choked on the bottled water he was drinking when Clint shimmied out of his denim shorts to reveal them.

His own shorts were baggy blue board shorts that tied at his waist. Boring and un-remarkable when compared to Clint's.

Wanda, Scott and Sam were messing about in the lake, chasing each other, splashing each other and generally having a good time. Clint was sprawled out on a sun lounger he had hauled out from the nearby boat house. Face down, purple ass up. He had purple mirrored shades too and Steve was starting to notice a theme here. Steve himself had a deck chair and was sprawled comfortably watching his friends, feet dangling in the water.

They returned home as dusk was settling in and not wanting to give up on the outdoors just yet, Sam and Scott set about raiding Clint's firewood stash to get a bonfire going. Clint laughed but left them too it after showing them where they could find deck-chairs. He brought beers out once they had the bonfire going and an old portable stereo with a CD-player and a stack of CDs. Scott and Sam ribbed him mercilessly about his taste in music, but then belted out all the words to 'Sweet Home Alabama' with him.

Steve chuckled sharing an amused look with Wanda as the three of them hollered the lyrics tunelessly at the top of their lungs.

Steve was content he thought. Yes, he missed Bucky, but Bucky was safe for now. T'Challa emailed him weekly with reports on the progress of his team of scientists that were trying to figure out a way to crack Bucky's programming. Yes, he missed Tony. With his sharp wit and his hare-brained schemes, but he knew that despite everything. Tony would be fine. He was a survivor.

It had been a long time since Steve had been able to just hang out with friends. A long time since he had been able to think about anything other than fights and strategies and responsibilities. He knew it couldn't last forever, but he was determined to enjoy it while he could.

 

He was still awake hours later after they had all gone to bed when he heard the faint creak of a floor board that told him someone else was up. Clint was the only person on the same floor as him, the other three in the attic rooms so he surmised it had to be him. Concern for why he would be up so late had Steve grabbing for his t-shirt and sweats and slipping quietly from his room.

He spied the open back door and slipped outside, finding Clint sitting on the back porch in a pair of faded blue jeans and nothing else. It was still warm, even at this ridiculous hour. Slowly, Steve approached and lowered himself down beside Clint. Not saying a word, just offering his presence.

Clint leaned into him slightly, then when Steve didn't move, leaned in slightly more until his head was resting on Steve's shoulder. Tentatively, Steve raised his arm and wrapped it around Clint. “Nightmares?” He asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“S'nuthin'” Clint replied, but shifted closer to Steve.

“I know.” Steve murmured, mouth in Clint's messy blonde hair, tightening his arm around Clint's waist.

They stayed like that until Clint fell asleep and Steve lifted him up. Carrying him back to his room.

 

Clint didn't mention their encounter and Steve didn't want to bring it up in front of the others so he said nothing. By day, Clint was his usual happy go lucky self, by night, now that he was aware of it, Steve stayed awake for it and found out that Clint spent many nights out on the back porch staring at the stars, remembering things he didn't share with Steve and trying to ignore the nightmares caused by events Steve was all to familiar with himself.

They didn't speak much on the nights that Steve found Clint on the back porch. A word here and there, but mostly just Steve's strong arms wrapped around Clint's broad shoulders.

 

“So, I got a call from Tony and he's coming to visit.” Clint blurted over breakfast one morning. Three sets of eyes swivelled to stare at him. A spoonful of cereal, a slice of toast, a mug of coffee all now hung suspended from the path to their respective lips.

Only Steve didn't look up. Only Steve continued to eat. There was silence for a beat and then Steve stopped chewing, swallowed and spoke. “He coming alone?”

“With Nat.” Clint replied quietly.

Steve spooned some more cereal into his mouth as the others continued to stare, now back and forth between Clint and Steve.

“To arrest us?” Steve asked after swallowing again.

“To talk.” Clint replied.

Steve picked up his bowl, lifted it to his lips and drained the last of the milk before standing and placing the bowl in the dishwasher. “Okay then.” He nodded to the four slightly bewildered looking faces at the table. “I'm gonna go for my run now.” He turned and left the room. The back door clicking a moment later.

“What the hell?” Sam exclaimed as soon as the door was shut. Clint shrugged.

“Should we be worried?” Wanda asked.

“No.” Clint replied. “Tony has known all along we were here. If he wanted us locked up. He would have done it by now.”

Tony and Natasha arrived just before noon. Natasha hugging Clint before slipping into the house. Tony stopped before he even made it to the front porch. Clint looking down at him. “Good to see you, Clint.”

Clint shook his head. “You look like shit buddy. Get in here.” Tony looked exhausted. His hair was too long and a wild snarl of curls. His beard while still short was covering far more of his face than usual. His eyes were red rimmed and the bags under them, had bags under them. As he went to pass Clint, Clint stuck out and arm and stopped him, pulling him into a hug that let him feel how skinny he had gotten under the baggy hoodie he was wearing.

Clint hussled Tony into the house and straight to the kitchen where he pushed him down into a chair. Digging around in the fridge Clint found ingredients for a sandwich which he threw together and promptly shoved under Tony's nose. “Eat!”

Tony pushed Clint's hand with the plate aside. “Not hungry.”

Clint banged the plate down on the table in front of him. “Too bad, Tony. Eat it, or I'm not telling you where Steve is.”

Tony glanced into the other room where Sam, Scott and Wanda were sitting quietly, pretending not to notice what was going on in the kitchen. Natasha was blatantly watching Tony and shrugged when he caught her eye. Sighing, Tony looked back to Clint before picking up the sandwich. “You drive a hard bargain, Barton.” He chuckled half heartedly before tucking into the sandwich.

Clint nodded in satisfaction and brought him a cup of coffee.

Tony finished the sandwich and his coffee and then turned expectant eyes on Clint. “He's out back. Play nice.” Clint informed him.

Tony stood. “You have my word.” He patted Clint's shoulder as he headed for the back door.

As soon as he was out, there was a mad scramble from the other room to get to the window to look out. “Guys, guys.” Clint laughed. “You'll get a better view from Steve's bedroom.” They turned as one and bolted for the stairs, only to find Natasha had beaten them too it.

Tony found Steve, with a rifle tucked up against his shoulder, shooting at one of the targets Clint had set up for his archery practice. Tony was surprised and a little concerned to see how good a shot Steve was and he made sure to make plenty of noise as he approached.

He stopped a few feet back from Steve and waited. Steve took a few more shots, then clicked on the safety and lowered the rifle. When he turned, Tony was standing with his hands up. “I come in peace.” Tony called over to him. “Should I have asked Barton for a white handkerchief?”

Steve almost smiled at him. Opting instead to swing the rifle strap over his shoulder and walk back towards the house.

Clint was waiting out by the back door and took the rifle from Steve when he reached the bottom step. Steve nodded in thanks and then turned back to look at Tony. “Walk with me?”

“Sure.” Tony replied and as Steve set off towards the lake, Tony followed after.

They made it all the way to the lake before Tony spoke. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He said quietly.

“No.” Steve replied. “I don't suppose it was.”

“I can't fix it either.” Tony continued before looking up at Steve. “Can you?”

Steve shook his head. “No. I don't think I can.”

Tony nodded sadly.

They stood for a while, side by side looking out over the lake before Steve spoke again. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your parent's Tony.”

Tony nodded again. “I'm sorry I lost it with you... and Bucky.”

Steve nodded.

“Is he safe?” Tony asked.

“Yes.” Was Steve's only reply.

“Good.” Tony whispered.

“Come on.” Steve nudged Tony's arm. “Let's get back before the others think we really have killed each other this time.”

Tony flinched slightly, but followed after when Steve turned to head back to the farmhouse.

Clint and Tony had been out in the barn tinkering with an old tractor when the others had gone to bed and it wasn't until he was creeping down the stairs a few hours later that it occurred to Steve to wonder where Natasha and Tony were sleeping.

Half that question was answered as he slipped through the living room headed for the kitchen. “Sorry, Nat.” He mumbled as he saw her watching him from her makeshift bed on the sofa. Quickly he grabbed a glass of water and hurried back to the stairs.

As he was passing Clint's room, on the way back to his own, he noticed the door was partly open. He glanced in, to check on Clint as he often did when passing and was some what taken aback to find him sound asleep, curled protectively around a sleeping Tony.

 

“How could you?” Sam hissed at Clint over breakfast that morning.

Steve looked up at the two of them over his cereal. Only the three of them were in the kitchen. Scott, Wanda and Tony were still asleep and Natasha had gone for a run.

“How could I what?” Clint asked.

“Sleep with Stark.” Sam demanded.

“Oh that.” Clint shrugged.

“Seriously, man. After everything he's done to us.” Sam continued but Steve interrupted him. 

“Sam.” He said seriously. “Who Clint chooses to have sex with is none of our business.”

Before Sam had a chance to respond, Clint snorted coffee out his nose and started choking. Startled, Sam grabbed for a tea towel before thumping Clint on the back until he was breathing normally again. When he had collected himself he turned wide eyes to Steve. “Okay, first off, thank-you. You're right, none of your business, but second off, not having sex with Stark.” He shuddered dramatically. “Not my type.”

“He was in your bed last night though.” Sam insisted. “Still is.”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded. “He's a friend. He has nightmares. It's a relatable thing for me okay.”

Sam looked down guiltily. “Okay man. Just as long as you know what you're doing. I don't wanna see us all get thrown back in jail because we got to complacent.”

Clint shook his head. “Like I said yesterday. Tony knew where we were from day one. If he wanted us in jail, we would have been.”

Steve looked across at him. “How did Tony know?”

Clint avoided looking at Steve when he answered. “He's a smart guy. He figured it out.”

Steve shook his head. “No, that's not it. You said he knew from day one. How?”

Clint slowly crossed to the kitchen drawer where he kept all his random junk and digging in the back, he pulled out a black Amex. “He may have told me to bring you guys here when we escaped.”

“He knew I would break you out?” Steve asked.

“No.” Clint shrugged. “He knew we'd get out somehow though. Knew that this place is off the books. No way we would ever be found out here. When he stopped by the prison before going to meet you and Bucky, he slipped me this credit card and told me to keep the team together. Told me to take you home.”

“Well, shit.” Steve smiled. “That's good to know.”

At that moment, footsteps were heard on the stairs and a short while later, Tony shuffled into the kitchen. When he flopped into the nearest chair, he was surprised when Sam handed him a cup of coffee. He eyed it sleepily for a moment before Sam laughed. “I didn't poison it Stark, you're safe.”

Tony gave a half nod and buried his face in the cup not coming up again until it was half empty. He sighed and blinked, looking around the room. “Did I miss something?” He asked as he realised Steve and Sam were staring at him and smiling.

Clint patted him on the shoulder and stood. “Nothing for you to worry about. What do you want for breakfast?” He pulled open the fridge and started rummaging inside.

“I'm fine.” Tony mumbled.

“I didn't ask how you were.” Clint turned from the fridge, arms laden with food. “I asked what you wanted for breakfast. You have five seconds to decide or I will.” Tony shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Clint grinned. “Chef's choice. You'll be sorry.” He headed for the stove but not before catching Tony rolling his eyes and giving a tiny smile.

In the end, Tony stayed for a week. Not because he really wanted to. It was more like Clint held him hostage. Natasha left and with her Tony's ride so he was pretty much stuck until she returned. Clint was determined he was going nowhere until he had been filled with proper food and several decent nights sleep. Despite his protests, Tony actually seemed pleased, even if he did have to resort to wearing Clint's clothes.

It was the fourth night before Steve was awakened by the familiar creak of the stairs. He waited to see if Clint or maybe Tony, was perhaps just getting a drink before returning to bed, but when there was no return creak, he slipped out of bed and into his jeans before heading for the back porch.

“Nightmare?” He asked as he sat down beside Clint who was staring up at the stars.

“Nah.” Clint replied. “Just couldn't sleep. Brain gets all hamster on a wheel sometimes.”

Steve nodded. “I know that feeling.”

“Full disclosure?” Clint asked, turning slightly to look at Steve. Steve nodded. “I have fooled around with Stark... in the past.”

Steve smiled, huffed a laugh. “Full disclosure?” Clint nodded. “So have I.”

Clint gaped at him before reaching out and giving Steve a shove laughing. “Fucking hell, man.”

“I know right?” Steve laughed. “Awkward!”

 

Steve got an email from T'Challa a few weeks later that informed him they were going to un-freeze Bucky. They needed him awake to run some specific tests on his triggers and he asked if Steve wanted to be there.

Steve replied immediately that he did and went to find the others who all insisted on coming too.

“Change of scenery will be good man.” Sam had informed him and the others agreed.

 

Bucky had been watching Steve and Clint for a while now and had come to a rather interesting conclusion. “You love him.” He whispered to Steve as soon as Clint had moved to the other side of the room, distracted by something Scott and Sam were doing.

“What?” Steve replied, startled.

“You do, don't you.” Bucky grinned.

Steve glanced towards where Clint was laughing with the others and then turned to look back at Bucky. “Well, damn.” He sighed. “How did I not notice that?”

Bucky laughed. “Because you're always too busy seeing other people, that you never remember to see yourself.” He patted Steve's arm. “Pretty sure he loves you too.”

Steve shook his head. “No.” He muttered. “We're just good friends. He's never shown any interest in me. I know that much.”

Bucky shrugged. “It's a two way street Steve. You've never shown any specific interest in him either. Doesn't mean it isn't there.”

 

There was a knock at his door later that night as Steve lay in bed not sleeping. He pushed himself into a sitting position and called out to his guest. “Come in.”

The door cracked open and Clint slipped inside. Hovering in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from the hall briefly before he clicked it shut. Steve didn't have his curtains closed so there was still enough light to make out his shape once the door was closed. “You okay?” He asked.

Clint shrugged. “This place has a lot of things.” He muttered. “But a back porch doesn't seem to be one of them.”

“C'mere.” Steve whispered, flicking back his covers and Clint crossed slowly towards the bed. He stopped when he reached the edge of it and Steve grabbed his wrist gently tugging him down into the bed. He pulled him over and then tucked him into his side, spooning close against his back and wrapping his arms around him. “The porch isn't the important part, I hope.” He murmured against the back of Clint's neck.

Clint sighed and snuggled closer. “You're right.” He whispered. “It isn't.”


End file.
